Steve Woolsey signals to the crowd after taking a hoof to the back of the head in the Bull Riding event during the 10th go-round of the National Finals Rodeo in 2010, in Las Vegas. Woolsey received a concussion and contusions.

Brian Herman is thrown off the bull Bad Medicine during championship day of the 2009 Professional Bull Riders Built Ford Tough Invitational at Madison Square Garden in New York City.

Timothy A. Clary
/ AFP/Getty Images

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Originally published on May 23, 2012 8:56 am

It's spring, and that means rodeo season is ramping up, especially in the American West. Some professional cowboys will soon be competing almost every night in bull riding, calf roping or steer wrestling.

But along with the trophy buckles and cash prizes, cowboys also bring home injuries — some of them severe. Some rodeo events are more dangerous, and less lucrative, than football and other contact sports.

An Unsteady Paycheck

The 2012 Houston Rodeo begins with a prayer and the national anthem, followed by the first event: calf roping.

But for many cowboys, the rodeo starts several hours before that. Doctors and athletic trainers wait beside a row of massage tables at the rodeo's medical clinic, close to the animal pens. There, Steven Peebles pulls off his boot to show a therapist surgical scars on his right ankle.

Peebles mashed up his leg back at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas in December. If this were any other professional sport, he'd still be rehabilitating. But Peebles competes in bareback — riding a bucking horse with no saddle for eight seconds.

Peebles is 22 and doing pretty well on the national circuit, but rodeo isn't like other professional sports that pay a steady salary, like football or baseball. He makes money only if he competes.

"It's Houston: big money, big rodeo, good horses. Had to come," he says.

A doctor injects the ankle to numb it, and a therapist massages it. Then athletic trainer Robbie McFarlin steps forward.

McFarlin says cowboys get all the sprains and bruises that football players get — and then some.

"Here, you're gonna have more stuff broken, more stuff crushed. Hopefully not. But this is not your average desk job, that's for sure," McFarlin says.

There are no rules requiring cowboys to wear helmets, neck braces or protective vests. And while many competitors do, that equipment is no guarantee against injury. The animals buck, just as they're supposed to. Gravity and chance ultimately have their way.

Competitor Casey Colletti made $155,000 riding bareback last year, but he's paid for it in pain. He lists his injuries, starting at his head. "My neck hurts right now; I got kicked in the face by a horse a couple years ago; I just had a few stitches. They didn't knock no teeth out — very, very fortunate on that," he says. "I got a hernia; LCL [lateral collateral ligament injury in] my knee; I had a horse flip and break my foot. Lower back hurts every day."

Dr. Tandy Freeman is the medical director for Justin Sportsmedicine, which operates free clinics at 125 major rodeos a year. Freeman says a bull rider or bareback rider, when compared with a football or hockey player, is much more likely to get injured each time he competes.

"In bull riding, for instance, we see a new injury every 15 bull rides, on average," Freeman says.

The sport has come a long way from its original roots. A working rancher doesn't regularly climb on specially bred bucking bulls that weigh 1,500 pounds, for instance.

Which raises the question: Why compete?

Colletti says his father, a former competitor, tried to warn him off the sport. But Colletti was hooked after his very first bareback ride.

"It's a huge adrenaline rush. I mean, I never done no drugs, but I think I could guess it'd be the closest thing, you could say," Colletti says. "People like riding roller coasters, skydiving, stuff like that. It's kind of the same thing."

Colletti, 26, might compete into his early 30s if he's lucky. After he retires, he plans to return to his native Colorado and build houses.

Only then will he undergo some long-delayed surgeries.

"You can't quit," Colletti says. "I mean, you can't quit doing what you love [just] to heal up. ... I guess we'll see in 20 years if I regret or not. I won't regret it, because I love it."

Ultimately, Colletti earned nothing in three nights of riding in Houston and failed to advance to the semifinals. So he — and hundreds of other cowboys — move on to the next competition.

Rodeo season is ramping up. Each spring, professional cowboys compete almost every night, whether bull riding, calf roping or steer wrestling. If they win they can bring home a stack of cash. If they lose, they might just bring home injuries, sometimes bad ones.

From member station KUHF in Houston, Carrie Feibel reports.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Brand new leader, 85...

CARRIE FEIBEL, BYLINE: The Houston rodeo begins with a prayer, the national anthem, and then the first event, calf roping. But for many cowboys, rodeo really starts a few hours before that.

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #1: I would definitely work more specifically over the scars.

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #2: He has scar tissues...

FEIBEL: This medical clinic is close to the animal pens. Doctors and athletic trainers wait beside a row of massage tables.

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #3: Is it more just on top that it hurts? Or is it around this bone?

FEIBEL: Steven Peebles pulls off his boot to reveal surgical scars on his right ankle.

FEIBEL: Peebles mashed up his leg back in December, at the national finals in Las Vegas. If this were any other professional sport, he'd still be rehabilitating. But it's not. Peebles competes in bareback. He rides a bucking horse with no saddle for eight seconds. He's 22 and doing pretty well on the national circuit.

But rodeo isn't like other pro sports, like football or baseball, that pay a steady salary. Peebles only makes money if he competes.

FEIBEL: A doctor injects the ankle to numb it. A therapist massages it. And then Robbie McFarlin, an athletic trainer, steps forward.

ROBBIE MCFARLIN: I'm going to tape you probably about to here. OK?

PEEBLES: Yeah.

MCFARLIN: OK. Tape you up pretty high.

PEEBLES: Yeah.

MCFARLIN: And it'll be fast. Don't worry.

FEIBEL: McFarlin says cowboys get all the sprains and bruises that football players get, plus some.

MCFARLIN: Here, you're going to have more stuff broken, more stuff crushed. Hopefully not, but this is not your average desk job, that's for sure.

FEIBEL: There are no rules requiring cowboys to wear helmets, neck braces or protective vests. Many of them do, but that's no guarantee. The animals buck and they're supposed to. Gravity and chance will have their way.

Casey Colletti made $155,000 riding bareback last year, but he's paid for it in pain.

CASEY COLLETTI: I guess, for starters, the top of my neck hurts right now. I got kicked in the face by a horse a couple years ago. I just had a few stitches. Didn't knock no teeth out. Very, very fortunate on that. I got a hernia, LCL in my knee. I had a horse slip and break my foot. Lower back hurts every day. Yeah.

FEIBEL: Dr. Tandy Freeman is the medical director for Justin Sportsmedicine. The group operates free clinics at 125 major rodeos a year, though not in Houston. Freeman says a bull rider or bareback rider is much more likely to get injured each time he competes when compared to football or hockey players.

TANDY FREEMAN: In bull riding, for instance, we see a new injury every 15 bull rides, on average.

FEIBEL: The Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association oversees close to 600 rodeos a year and there are many more for amateurs, students and even seniors. The sport has come a long way from its original roots. A working rancher, after all, doesn't regularly climb on specially bred bucking bulls that weigh 1,500 pounds. All of which prompts the question, why?

Colletti says his father, a former competitor, tried to warn him off, but he got hooked after his very first bareback ride.

COLLETTI: I never done no drugs, but I think - I guess it's the closest thing you could say to, you know, like a - it's just a huge adrenaline rush. People like riding roller coasters, skydiving and stuff like that. It's kind of the same thing.

FEIBEL: Colletti is 26. If he's lucky, he might compete into his early 30s. After he retires, he'll return to his native Colorado and probably build houses. Only then will he undergo some long delayed surgeries.

COLLETTI: Can't quit. I mean, you can't quit doing what you love to heal up or, you know, I mean, I guess we'll see in 20 years if I regret it or not. I won't regret it, you know, 'cause I love it.

FEIBEL: As it happened, Colletti earned nothing in three nights of riding in Houston and failed to advance to the semifinals, so he and hundreds of other cowboys move on to the next competition.